


build me a pyre

by orphan_account



Series: post nubes lux [1]
Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c., Real Person Fiction
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Infidelity, Post-Election
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:37:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9702287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: For the first ten minutes after the results come in, she wonders if she’s going to be arrested.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the number of possibly obscure political references made in this fic, I included footnotes where I felt necessary. You don't have to read all of them, but I'd recommend numbers 7, 12, 18, and 20.

For the first ten minutes after the results come in, she wonders if she’s going to be arrested. Any day before today, that would’ve been a laughable thought – this is the United States of America, there’s no way someone like Donald J. Trump could ever, _ever,_ become the President.

And then the results came in and then – then everything she’d once thought of as fact is suddenly up for debate. Is the sky blue? Is gravity real? Does any of this even matter?

CNN is on, the commentators are speaking, and it feels like there’s a delay somewhere between Atlanta and her brain because she sees their mouths move and knows that sound is coming out and yet she can’t hear a thing. Everything is disoriented, distant, dreamlike.

Donald Trump is going to be the next President of the United States, and Hillary Clinton is not.

Wouldn’t it be interesting, she wonders, to know what Donald is feeling right now? She’s going to have to call him and concede the race, isn’t she?

“What time is it?” she asks. Her eyes are still on the screen, still showing the same results, still showing that she didn’t get the votes she needed.

“Almost three am,” someone says. She’s not sure who.

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath, and then another. Bill’s hand is on her shoulder, steady and secure, and she lets out a sigh. No point in delaying the inevitable. “Someone get Trump on the phone.”

Huma is the first to get to her feet, the first person to probably get up and move since John left to address the crowd[1]. She pauses a moment, standing right in front of her, phone hovering above her ear. “Are you sure, ma’am?”

Hillary gives her a nod and takes the phone. The conversation lasts for about a minute, and it’s the worst conversation she’s ever had in her life. [2]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“You know, sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to run against G. W. back in the day,” Bill says, leaning back on the couch.

She raises a brow, corner of her mouth quirking.

He rolls his eyes and lets out a chuckle. “Think it would’ve been as scandal-ridden as yours?”

“Two words,” she says, holding up two fingers. “Monica Lewinsky.”

The tips of his ears turn pink and he doesn’t say anything as she sits beside him and starts the next episode of Property Brothers[3].)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They have a concession speech – of course they have – but, understandably, they didn’t think they’d need it. Not until the unthinkable – well, that’s maybe not the right word. Van Jones made plenty of good points. Maybe it wasn’t so unthinkable after all.

Jennifer helps her polish it up, even though Hillary had insisted she could do it herself.

“This speech is for you,” she says. “It’s for all of you – everyone who helped me, everyone who believed in me, who worked for me. This is from me to you.”

“I know,” Jennifer says. “But… you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Hillary reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. She thinks of their last day on the campaign, of the wonderful people she’d seen, of the hope she’d felt from them, of the hope she’d felt herself. It had been such an electric feeling, a blessed feeling, a beautiful feeling.

A group of young girls had shouted, “I love you,” somewhere in Pittsburgh and she’d replied, “I love you all too.”[4]. At the time, it seemed like a silly little thing – a tiny comment in a large moment, brought upon by a buzzed feeling of excitement. But now, she wonders where they are, how they’re feeling.

 _I am sorry,_ she types. And then she types some more. _And to all the little girls who are watching this, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and to achieve your own dreams_.  [5]

Jennifer tears up when she reads it over, and Hillary can’t blame her.

It’s hard not to cry when she’s delivering it herself, when everyone around her is crying, but she can’t. They’re all looking to her and she has to give them hope.

It’s all she can do now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“I still remember that conversation we had, when you won the nomination back in 2008,” Hillary says, shifting her glass to her other hand. “Remember that?”

“Hard to forget that year,” he laughs, shaking his head. He leans back into the seat and gives her a smile. “You would’ve made a fine president back then.”

“I’m patient enough to wait my turn,” she says, and they laugh together.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know I still have to work with Comey until January, right?” Barack’s voice comes through her phone’s speaker, slightly laced with static, as she sets it on the table and rests her legs on the seat of her couch.

“I’m not going to go easy on him just for you,” she says. “He played a big role in this whole mess, and he deserves what’s coming to him.”[6] She pauses a moment. “He’s not listening in on this, is he?”

Barack’s laugh is short and surprised, the most someone in his situation can manage, but it still gives her a sense of peace. He wasn’t like this at all, back in 2008, and she wonders what changed. Well, that’s a stupid question – he became President. Maybe that’s what gave him this sudden reassuring presence.

She tries to imagine Donald in the same position and it leaves a nasty taste in her mouth.

“Let’s move onto a different topic,” Barack says. “Your picture with that young woman [7] is viral – the news media is all over it.”

“I know, I have a Google news alert on myself,” Hillary replies. “She was very polite – though I’m not sure why she was out on a hike with just her baby.”

“I don’t know – she’s your supporter, not mine.”

Hillary rolls her eyes. “You’re just as bad as Tim.”

“Dad humor – I’m sure Chelsea gets it from Bill all the time.” She hears some rustling in the background and she wonders where he’s calling from. “Speaking of him, how is Tim doing? I haven’t spoken to him since election night.”

“He’s holding up, better than most,” she says with a sigh. “Some of my aides – I can’t get through a single conversation with them before they burst into tears or start crying on the phone.”

“Same problem here too,” he hums. “You know, according to the Times, Jim Manley said that there’s a special place in hell for your staff that okayed the email server setup.”

She lets out an undignified snort. “I’m sure we’ll see him there with us.”

Barack laughs again and she gives a small smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(She spends an entire day fielding calls of congratulations after she’s confirmed as the nominee. For once, it’s not a day spent in combat or in defense or battling personal attacks from any of the other candidates – or their supporters – and it feels like they’re that much closer to victory.

Of course, her aides and the volunteers know it’s not the proper time to celebrate, not when there’s still much of the race left. But there’s such a feeling of accomplishment that she can’t help but feel hopeful.

When she finally speaks with Elizabeth Warren – the only female senator who, for the longest time, refused to endorse her [8] – she can’t help but jibe, “I’m glad you finally decided to come over to my side.”

The smile she gets in return is devoid of warmth, but set with a steely determination. “Don’t make me regret it.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first time she speaks to Elizabeth after the concession is after the speech she gives for the Children’s Defense Fund.

“Glad to see you’re out of the woodwork,” she says when Hillary picks up. “Saw your speech in the Times[9]. It was good.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Hillary replies. She’s in her pajamas, leaning against the kitchen counter with her phone in one hand and a mug of hot chocolate in the other. She wonders what Elizabeth is doing, wherever she is. Boston, maybe?

“That anecdote about your mother,” Elizabeth continues. “Was it true?”

“It was passionate, inspiring, and people enjoyed it.” She shrugs and takes a sip from her drink. “Isn’t that what a speech is all about?”

To her surprise, Elizabeth laughs. “Looks like losing hasn’t changed much, has it? Politics will still be politics.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Hillary replies with a hum.

“You sound better than you did last time,” Elizabeth says. “I told Rachel Maddow about it during an interview but I'm not sure she bought it. I mean, Rachel is a nice girl but she sure as hell knows when someone’s lying.”

“I did see that interview.” She clears her throat. “Thank you for that.”

“Us nasty women have to stick together,” Elizabeth says, and Hillary can’t help but laugh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“That was so fucking rude,” Chelsea groans.

“Language, young lady. I don't swear in front of you, do I?” Hillary snaps. She takes a sip from her coffee and feels the burn in her throat. Then, of course, because of that ridiculous slogan, she starts thinking of Bernie Sanders. This close to Election Day and he’s _still_ haunting her.

“It was still rude,” Chelsea insists. “I mean, cutting you off while you’re talking is one thing, but then giving you another nickname  [10]? Wasn’t ‘Crooked Hillary’ enough?”

“What did you expect?” Hillary sighs. “It’s like everyone says – he’s a spoiled brat, and a racist misogynist to boot.”

After some more back and forth, Chelsea finally asks, “Do you really think he’d put you in jail if he wins?”

At that, Hillary has to laugh. “This is the United States, sweetie. There are many, _many_ laws preventing him from doing that.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s some good news for you,” Bill tells her, once she’s returned from one of her walks.

“A huge voting conspiracy has been uncovered and it turns out I’m the President-elect?”

“Not that good.” He lifts up his phone and she grabs it on her way to the kitchen. “Looks like you’re not going to have the Trump administration investigating you.” He frowns a little. “God, the _Trump_ administration.”

“I always found the Clinton administration to be a catchier title. Or the _Madame_ Clinton administration.” She pours herself a glass of water and starts skimming through the article [11]. “ _‘I don't want to hurt the Clintons, I really don't. She went through a lot and suffered greatly in many different ways, and I am not looking to hurt them at all. The campaign was vicious.’_ ” She puts down the phone and scoffs. “Is he being serious?”

“I thought you’d be cheerier about this news.”

She drains the glass and goes to hand back his phone. “Not when the bar is set so low that I have to be glad I’m not going to jail for not doing something illegal.”

Bill sighs and gives her a sympathetic look. “Welcome to the next four years.”

She’s glad he said four because there’s no way she could handle him saying eight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“What do you think of Kellyanne Conway?” Hillary asks, taking a bite into her sandwich. “She’s the new campaign manager for the Trump campaign, right? Is she any better than the old one, Paul?”

“She was with Ted Cruz’s campaign before this and we all know how that went,” Jennifer says with a shrug. She drains her coffee in a single gulp and shakes her head. “I don’t think we have much to worry about.”

“Pride goeth before the fall,” Hillary chides playfully.

Jennifer rolls her eyes with a slight smile. “We all know you graduated from Yale, ma’am, no need to show off.”

“How is that showing off?”

“I dunno, ma’am,” Joel says, coming up from behind them. “Making wisecrack remarks, trying to stop people from being too prideful – classic Democratic elitism right there.”

Hillary swats him away with a laugh. It was always nice to take a break from the ever-present cloud of the election. She wonders how long the calm will last before the storm.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“We’re really sorry, ma’am,” Joel says, his sigh echoing in static into her ear. [12]

She’s lying down on the couch, as she’s been doing a lot lately, Tally by her feet and Masie by her arm, while Bill cooks in the kitchen. She can smell the food from here and her stomach rumbles absently.

“I’m not,” Jennifer snaps. “Not at all.”

“Well, it’s not like your actions will reflect poorly on the campaign,” Hillary points out.

“Maybe not on the campaign, but definitely on the party.”

Jennifer scoffs. “Pardon my language, but fuck that. We were polite for the entire campaign and they fucked us over at every turn. And now – now we have to just shout the truth wherever they will listen.”

“They have to still respect you to listen to you,” Joel says. His tone is gentle, but tinged with enough sarcasm that it seems patronizing.

“So you want to stand by and let the neo-Nazi alt-right reign free?” Jennifer huffs. “You want the white nationalists to do whatever the fuck they want?”

“Of course not – I’m Jewish, Jen, do you really think I’d want that? We went over this back at Harvard.” He lets out another sigh. “When they go low, we go high.”

“And that’s why they call liberals soft.” Before anyone can say anything else, Jennifer adds, “I have to go, ma’am, I’ll call later,” and hangs up.

“Well,” Hillary says, “that went well.”

“No, it didn’t,” Joel says. He pauses a moment. “Hate crimes have increased dramatically. Including against Jewish people.”

“Stay safe, Joel. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says. “I’ll call you later. Have a good night.”

She sits there for a few moments after he’s hung up, before venturing into the kitchen and watching Bill set up the table. “Do you think liberals are too soft?”

He looks up at her and presses his lips together. “I’m not sure if I’m the right person to answer that.”

She nods, slowly, and leans against the doorway with a sigh. He walks over and puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Antiques Roadshow?” he asks gently.

“Yeah,” she says. She clears her throat and nods again. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“Hey, ma’am?” Robby catches up with her, looking a little unsure. “I don’t think this is going to be an issue, but one of the interns wanted me to let you know that there’s a rumor going around that you’re –” he pulls out his phone, “– running a child-sex ring through a pizza place in DC.” [13]

He looks at her and she looks at him and they both burst into laughter.

“I can’t thank you enough for that, Robby,” she says with a smile. “I really needed that today.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This is exactly why I didn’t vote for you,” Elizabeth says through the phone. Hillary has it pressed to her ear while she watches CNN on mute.

“Because I might’ve been running a child-sex ring through a pizza restaurant?” she asks.

“Exactly.”

Hillary rolls her eyes. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“No one was injured,” Elizabeth points out. “So, I guess you could laugh.”

“I can’t believe something like this happened.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I guess if this keeps up, we might not even live to see the Trump presidency.”

“Now that you’ve said that, we’re _definitely_ going to live through it.”

“Dammit.”

Elizabeth’s laugh rings through her ears long after they’ve hung up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“I can’t believe you said that,” Hillary says, when she finally calls Harry’s office. She tries to think of something else to say, but it just comes out again. “I cannot believe you said that.”

“No one else was going to,” Harry replies, “so I thought I’d step up and take charge. I am the minority leader, after all.” [14]

Her laughs turn into coughs and she shakes her head. “You’re lucky you’re retiring, because there’s no way you’d be reelected.”

“When you’ve got nothing to lose, you got to go all in.”

“I really don’t know what to say.”

“Just get better,” he tells her. “Get better, and then kick his fat racist ass.”

She’s grinning when she hangs up. It feels like it’s going to be a good year. Or a good day, at the very least.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I feel like no one was really laughing at the jokes,” she says to Joe, when they finally get a moment together. They’re both looking at Harry’s portrait [15], but she’s not really looking at it. It doesn’t seem all that important, the retirement of the minority leader, when January 20th is looming over like a dark beacon.

Joe looks at her with all the fading glory a lame duck Vice President can have, and the small smile slips off his face. “There are sixty-five million people who’ve lost hope in this country. Jokes are a rare commodity and I think we should keep making them, for whatever they’re worth.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I wish you weren’t leaving, Joe.”

He looks away, the smile back on his face, and it fills her with an immeasurable sadness. She wonders if this is what Barack looks like when he’s alone.

It’s probably worse for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“This may sound like a terrible question,” Tim says warily, “and you might not want to answer it, but I’d appreciate it either way.” He pauses for dramatic effect, taking a sip of his drink, and says, “Which do you regret more, Benghazi or the email server?”

She takes a moment to answer, glass in hand as she considers it. “This might sound terrible, but the emails.” She looks over at him and while he seems clearly surprised, he lets her continue to explain herself. “I know people died in Benghazi and that was terrible, honestly terrible. But the emails – they keep coming back to haunt me every time I turn my head, and if I could only stop one, I’d stop myself from creating that server.”

She shakes her head and pours herself another glass. “Benghazi stayed relatively in the past, but the emails have been costing me votes.”

Tim doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Guess the emails make you miss Monica Lewinsky, huh?”

It’s a small miracle that he doesn’t spill his drink when she tosses the throw pillow at him.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I can’t believe you attacked the Russians last night and I have to find out from the Times,” Elizabeth huffs, when she finally calls. [16]

Hillary lies on her back, still in bed, smiling softly. “We had a busy night.”

“You should’ve invited me somehow,” Elizabeth continues. “I know I’m not a donor and I know I’m not in Manhattan but I could’ve made it somehow.”

“I’m sure you could’ve.”

“‘ _This is an attack against our country… This is about the integrity of our democracy and the security of our nation –_ you really said all of that?”

“I did,” she grins.

“You’ve grown bigger balls since your loss, Hillary. Maybe this loss wasn’t such a bad thing.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that.” She sits up, slowly, and watches the sun peak in between the curtains.

“Come by Boston sometime,” Elizabeth says. “We could rally together – just like the good old days.”

“I’ll think about it,” Hillary tells her. Later, she wonders if it sounded as dismissive as she’d meant it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“Maybe we should talk about it?” Bill asks. He sounds unsure, uncertain, like he doesn’t know how she’s going to react to this.

“I’m fine, Bill.” She doesn’t look up from her book, fingers tugging on the edge of the page. She reads the same line once, twice, three times, before snapping the book shut and slamming it down on the coffee table.

“Was it that bad?”

“Are you talking about the book or what happened this week?”

He shrugs, and it’s just the way he does it that makes her burst into sudden laughter. He’s laughing too, looking more relaxed than he’s been in the past couple of days. He kicks his feet up on the table and stretches out his back. “Lay back, I’ll read to you.”

“Sure it’s not going to put me to sleep?” she asks as she kicks her shoes off and rests her head against the armrest. “We’ve got dinner reservations in an hour.”

“You said you liked this book,” he tells her. “You’re the one who’s making me read it.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He rolls his eyes and she lets out another laugh and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like they’re on the campaign. It feels like they’re just good friends again.

She wonders if it’ll ever be like this again.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes her a couple of moments to read who the text is from and the text itself, considering how early in the morning it is. Bill was getting out of the shower when she left and she’s sure Chelsea and Marc had a very nice night without their kids. [17]

She knows she did, whenever Chelsea wasn’t home and it was just her and Bill, back in the day. Before dirty politics reared its ugly head.

When she’s finally able to read the text, it’s a little strange, considering it’s from Elizabeth:

_You’re very popular, you know_

_What’s that supposed to mean?_ Hillary types in response.

_I’m talking about your granddaughter’s recital, your dinner at those two restaurants a couple of weeks ago. Even your dinner now in Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz, NY_

_How do you know where I am?_

_Age of the Internet – nothing is a secret nowadays  
I must say, though, you look pretty tired this morning_

_The media works faster and faster every day, don’t they?  
I haven’t seen you in the spotlight lately_

_Maybe you will, if you ever come by_

She’s saved from responding when Bill finally comes downstairs, and yet the messages stay with her throughout the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“Tell me honestly, John,” Hillary says one night, on the rare occasion they’re at the same event, “was I a hard act to follow as Secretary of State?”

“Honestly?” John scratches thoughtfully at his chin. “No, not really.”

“Be glad this glass is empty or I’d throw it at your face.”

He laughs and shakes his head. Later that night, he asks, “Would you want me to stay on as Secretary of State?”

“Honestly, no,” Hillary replies with a smirk, before adding, “but I would appreciate it if you were to offer your opinions on matters, should I request them.”

He chuckles softly and takes her hand, giving it a gentle kiss. “Of course, Madame President.”

“ _Future_ Madame President,” she corrects.

“It’s almost a sure thing.”

“You know what they say – don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, John?” Hillary says, while the media is distracted by Albright for the moment. “Would you mind grabbing one of those AK-47s and shooting me in the face with it?”

“Which one?” he asks. “The vodka-filled one or the real one?” [18]

“Either would be fine.”

He gives her a sympathetic grimace and reaches to gently squeeze her hand. “Guess I shouldn’t have counted my chickens, huh?”

She chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head. “I guess not. Now, come along,” she gestures, “the Hillary Clinton Pavilion of this diplomacy center awaits.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(“You really don’t have a backup plan?” Betsy asks. “I don’t believe that.” [19]

Hillary laughs, crossing her legs under her as she sets her book down. “Well, have you _seen_ my competition?”

She can hear Betsy roll her eyes as she responds, “We all know – Hardye’s buying up a whole bunch of ‘Nasty Woman’ shirts from Amazon. She wants the rest of us to get together on Inauguration Day and hold up signs so you know where we are.”

“She knows that’s a longshot, right?”

“Try telling her that.”

They laugh again, moving onto other topics of conversation, catching up for a little while, when Betsy clears her throat and says, “Hey, Hill? You know that we all love you, right?”

“I know,” Hillary replies. “I love you too.”

“Good. Now, go out and get ‘em, girl.”

“You bet your ass I will.”)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know,” Barack says, “if there’s _anyone_ who deserves to know the truth about these mayoral rumors, it’s me. I mean, who am I gonna tell?”

“Joe has a big mouth,” Hillary says, and chuckles when Barack laughs. He always manages to cheer her up. “But, honestly, I really don’t know.”

“You haven’t thought about it?”

“I have – of course I have, but…” she sighs slowly, sinking into her couch. “I don’t think anyone’s ready, honestly, not after this massive loss. My staff is in the wind, Bill and I are trying to find some semblance of normalcy – I’m not sure if this is the right time.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Barack replies, and it sounds like he truly means it.

She sighs again. “Can I ask you a question? If you’d lost to McCain, back in 2008, would you have run for Chicago mayor?”

He’s silent for a couple of moments before he responds. “I honestly don’t know. It was so long ago, and I don’t remember how I would’ve felt about losing at that point to consider it. Maybe I’d feel like you and your team right now, and maybe not. I don’t know.”

“I see,” she says. “Thanks anyway.”

“It’s really no problem.”

“You should come by sometime – we’d love to see you and Michelle again.”

“Why don’t you two come and visit us, sometime after the inauguration? Michelle’s thinking of somewhere warm, and I’m thinking of kitesurfing.”

Hillary can’t help but grin. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(The last day of campaigning is definitely the most exhausting, and it’s Bill who insists she get a hotel room to rest in after she votes.

“You’re going to need your energy for the after-party,” he tells her, and the rest of her aides agree, and that’s how she finds herself sitting on the edge of a bed, phone in hand, furiously scrolling through her newsfeed to see if any new polling data has come out.

There’s a knock on the door and then Elizabeth’s voice rings out, “You better be sleeping in there, Hillary Rodham.”

Hillary gets up and opens the door. “Not with all the racket you’re making out there.” She steps aside to let her walk in and closes the door behind her. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

“Someone needed to make sure you were sleeping and not sitting here, looking through polling data.” Elizabeth goes over to the bed and spots the phone, still on and open at Nick Silver’s blog, and she grabs it and shoves it into her pocket.

Hillary rolls her eyes. “Come on, Elizabeth, this is the biggest election since 2008 – I need to know what’s going on in the world.”

“Well, you need to rest, because in a couple of hours, you’ll be in the Javits Center along with your fellow aides, and you know what they’ll be calling you?”

“What?” Hillary asks.

Elizabeth grins at her. “Madame President.”

She knew what Elizabeth was going to say, and yet she can’t stop grinning back. It’s just the two of them, adrenaline and excitement flowing through them as they eagerly await history on the horizon and it’s all Hillary can do to control herself and then –

Then Elizabeth’s mouth is on hers and they’re –

They’re kissing.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ride to the Inauguration feels like an eternity.

Bill’s leg presses against hers and his hand is on her leg, trying to keep her grounded when all she wants to do is disappear.

“This wasn’t supposed to be how it goes,” she mumbles quietly. It’s the first time she’s said something like that, but all he does is hold onto her harder. He feels the same way.

The tweet she sends out is short and simple, but she does it with shaking hands and a heavy heart _. I'm here today to honor our democracy & its enduring values. I will never stop believing in our country & its future._

 _I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to be how it goes_ , she types, then deletes it immediately and puts her phone away for the rest of the ride.

Michelle and Barack are there, shining beacons of hope in a sea of darkness, and when the distant chants of “Lock her up!” start, Michelle takes her hand and Hillary squeezes back.

“I wish I could go back to 2012 and change all of this before it happened,” she mumbles quietly.

“I know,” Michelle whispers, and she really means it.

“Maybe we should’ve played it sick like the Bushs,” Barack mumbles, quiet enough so only they’ll hear, and Hillary has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing out loud.

It feels like a cosmic joke when she’s seated next to John Cornyn, the majority whip, but then she thinks that she could’ve been seated next to Trump himself – on today of all days – and she takes it in stride instead.

“It’s been a wild ride, hasn’t it?” he says.

“It has,” she agrees. “It’s been such a long ride.”

She reads the articles about herself later, all about how she conducted herself on this inauguration, but there’s only one quote that sticks out in her mind:

“ _Everyone would have understood if she stayed home,” said Jennifer Palmieri, a former senior campaign aide to Mrs. Clinton. “But that’s not how she’s built._ ” [20]

She calls her when it’s all over and lets her cry into the receiver.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Neither of them are young. Elizabeth is 67 and Hillary is two years older than that. They’ve passed the age for passionate love affairs.

But one of them is about to become the first female President of the United States and that’s a strong enough aphrodisiac to put aside all reservations.

Elizabeth’s skirt is somewhere on a chair and Hillary’s glad she packed an extra suit because she’s not really sure what happened to the one she was wearing moments ago, and then Elizabeth kisses her again, hands wrapping around her back as though she’s done this hundreds of times before.

Not a word is exchanged between the two of them. There are concerns, problems, worries on the tip of her tongue and then Elizabeth pins her down and her hands cup the sides of her face and she kisses her wildly and then – and then Hillary melts into it and kisses back.

When Elizabeth is between her thighs, mouth on her clit with the barest hint of teeth, Hillary doesn’t feel like a presidential nominee, nor a former secretary of state, nor a former senator, not even the former First Lady. She just feels like a normal woman who’s, well, having her pussy eaten.

Elizabeth slides her fingers in and out, sometimes rough and fast and sometimes unbearably slow and Hillary nearly rips the sheets when she arches up with a breathless moan.

The thing is, it never occurs to either of them to think about what happens when a Clinton cheats on their spouse.

It usually isn’t good.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“It’s fucked up,” Elizabeth sighs. “It’s completely fucked up.”

“I know,” Hillary says. She has a cup of tea in one hand and she’s staring out the window. It’s a nice day out.

“There’s no time to rest – there’s barely time to act,” she continues. “We go from the Women’s March to the cabinet hearings to the Muslim ban to the pipelines to the National Security Council – it never ends.”

“I know.”

She sighs again. “I need to see you.”

Hillary sighs, tightening her grip on the cup. “I don’t know.”

“Hillary,” Elizabeth starts, then stops, then says, “I’m so sorry.”

She has no idea how to reply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(One by one, the exit polls start coming in, and then the projections start, and then one by one, the states are called, turning red or blue, red or blue, red, red, red – not blue.

Analysists start to panic. People start flooding social media. Everyone’s trying to understand what’s going on.

Elizabeth Warren calls and Hillary Clinton does not answer.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She sits in front of the camera. Her happiness feels a little forced, her tone hard to believe, but the underlying message is true, and she believes it with all her heart.

"Despite all the challenges we face, I remain convinced that yes, the future is female.”

* * *

1 John Podesta, addressing the crowd of Clinton supporters at around 2 am. Video available [here](https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2016/live-updates/general-election/real-time-updates-on-the-2016-election-voting-and-race-results/video-podestas-full-statement-to-clinton-supporters/?utm_term=.9e2cb33b1a06).  [ return to text ]

2 According to Kellyanne Conway, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump had a one-minute conversation in which she conceded the race to him. More information on that [here](http://www.cnn.com/2016/11/09/politics/clinton-to-offer-remarks-in-new-york-city/).  [ return to text ]

3 Bill Clinton, in episode 5 of the “With her” podcast (found [here](https://www.hillaryclinton.com/page/podcast/)) mentions Hillary’s love of HGTV, Antiques Roadshow, and different types of books (usually written by female authors).  [ return to text ]

4 The New York Times reports this [here](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/08/us/politics/clinton-rally.html?_r=0), during the last day of campaigning before the election.  [ return to text ]

5 Full text of the concession speech is available [here](http://www.cnn.com/2016/11/09/politics/hillary-clinton-concession-speech/), and additional information is available in the link in Footnote 2.  [ return to text ]

6 In a speech to her donors after the election, Hillary blamed the loss on FBI Director James B. Comey and the resurgence of the email scandal. In [this](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/13/us/politics/hillary-clinton-james-comey.html) NYT article, Jim Manley, former senior aid to Harry Reid, is quoted to have said, “There’s a special place in hell for Clinton staff […] that okayed the email server setup.”  [ return to text ]

7 This is, of course, referencing the photos of Hillary and Bill in the woods in Chappaqua, NY, after the election. Most, if not all, of the events Hillary attended or was seen at are detailed in [this article](https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/14/style/hillary-clinton-new-york-sightings.html?_r=0).  [ return to text ]

8 Elizabeth Warren didn’t officially endorse Hillary until all 50 states had voted in their primaries. More information [here](http://thehill.com/homenews/campaign/268161-female-senators-urge-warren-back-hillary). [ return to text ]

9 The article Elizabeth is referring to is [here](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/17/us/politics/hillary-clinton-in-emotional-speech-implores-supporters-to-keep-believing-in-america.html). The anecdote she refers to is one where Hillary says she wishes she could go back and tell her mother not to despair: “Look at me and listen. You will survive. You will have a family of your own, three children, and as hard as it might be to image, your daughter will grow up to be a United States senator, represent our country as secretary of state, and win more than 62 million votes.”  [ return to text ]

10 The origins of “nasty woman”, [here](http://www.cnn.com/2016/10/19/politics/donald-trump-hillary-clinton-nasty-woman/).  [ return to text ]

11 The aforementioned article [here](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/22/us/politics/donald-trump-hillary-clinton-investigation.html).  [ return to text ]

12 Joel Benenson, former chief strategist and pollster of the Clinton campaign, and Jennifer Palmieri, former communications director of the campaign, attended a paneled debate at Harvard University with Kellyanne Conway and David Bossie of the Trump campaign for a discussion on the election. Instead of a normal discussion, it was filled with jabs and insults from both sides. An example: ‘“Are you gonna look me in the face and say I ran a campaign that was a platform for white supremacists?” Conway angrily responded. Palmieri told her, plainly, yes. “Are you kidding me?” Conway asked incredulously.’ More information [here](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/01/us/politics/campaign-managers-trump-clinton-crackle-in-debate.html) and [here](http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2016/12/01/trump-hillary-aides-tussle-in-goddamn-foodfight-screaming-match.html). Highly recommend reading them.  [ return to text ]

13 The [ Wikipedia article on Pizzagate](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pizzagate_conspiracy_theory) is a wild ride.  [ return to text ]

14 After Donald attacked Hillary for having pneumonia, Harry Reid, retiring Senate Minority Leader, flat out said, “Donald Trump is a racist,” after previously calling him out on the Senate floor. More on his public bashing [here](http://www.cnn.com/2016/09/26/politics/harry-reid-calls-donald-trump-a-racist/). [ return to text ]

15 During the portrait unveiling for Harry Reid, where Joe Biden was in attendance, Hillary made a few jokes and statements like, “This is not exactly the speech at the Capitol I hoped to give,” and that “after a few weeks of taking selfies in the woods, I thought it would be a good idea to come out.” More information on that [here](http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/hillary-clinton-jokes-expense-harry-reids-retirement/story?id=44072018).[ return to text ]

16 The “attack” and subsequent quote Elizabeth gives are from [this article](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/16/us/politics/hillary-clinton-russia-fbi-comey.html). During the speech, Hillary claimed that Putin “has a personal beef against” her, and the attacks were intended to “undermine our democracy.” [ return to text ]

17 This event references [this picture](https://www.instagram.com/p/BOkLPsyFLZp/), where she’s out with her family in New Paltz, NY. [ return to text ]

18 During the opening of the new exhibition and museum space at the State Department, former National Security Advisor Colin Powell mentioned that he was gifted a bottle of AK-47 vodka by a former foreign minister, and John Kerry joked that he’d suggest to then-nominee for Secretary of State Rex Tillerson that “he ensure every AK-47 is vodka-filled.” Hillary added: “I think we should look for some dispensation when the center is finally finished […] to toast it with the vodka from the AK-47 bottle and stand in front of Madeleine [Albright]’s pins, trying to decipher what they all mean.” Full article [here](http://www.politico.com/story/2017/01/clinton-state-department-233448). [ return to text ]

19 For those of you who aren’t familiar with her, Betsy Ebeling is a life-long friend of Hillary’s, since they met in the 6th grade. For more information on their relationship, there’s a good article [here](http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/frontline/article/the-frontline-interview-betsy-ebeling/) and [here](https://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/23/fashion/debate-watching-with-hillary-clintons-friends.html?_r=0). [ return to text ]

20 The quote is from [this article](https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/20/us/politics/hillary-clinton-donald-trump-inauguration.html). And yes, there were chants of “Lock her up!” on that day. [ return to text ]

**Author's Note:**

> Part two is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9838190)
> 
> Also, since you're reading this and obviously, you have some strong feelings about this election and the current state of politics (and also you're partially cursed for reading RPF), might I recommend donating to [ Planned Parenthood](https://www.plannedparenthood.org/) or [ Black Lives Matter](http://blacklivesmatter.com/) or [ Standing Rock](http://standingrock.org/news/standing-rock-sioux-tribe--dakota-access-pipeline-donation-fund/) or just about any other organization that will desperately need help in these trying times.


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